Let it go
by Yoshishisha
Summary: After a sudden trip to the mountain, Harry finds himself alone and stranded in the snow. Alone and scared, he will have to accept his powers in order to survive. But since when was it possible to find a magical talking snowman in the middle of nowhere?
1. Let it go

Harry couldn't believe it. They'd abandoned him! The Dursleys! That shouldn't have been so surprising considering that there was no love lost between him and them, but to believe that they'd actually leave him? He'd never even envisioned that. He let out a wry grin as he imagined the explanations they'd invent to justify his absence: Petunia would probably be thrilled to have him out her house.

_'The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a footprint to be seen'_

In hindsight, he should have suspected something when the Dursleys had told him of their sudden idea to go for a weekend of hiking in the mountains. After all, since when did they ever like doing any sort of strenuous activity? As a matter of fact, the very idea of putting his relatives and physical activity in the same sentence almost caused his mind to short-circuit. Now, however, he only had those _less than pleasing _thoughts for company amidst the glowing whiteness of the snow.

_'A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the queen'_

He'd always been lonely before, but at least there had been other people around him. Now? Now he was alone, and he could no longer pretend that the opposite was true. Here, in those mountains, he was the only one, king of an empty hill.

_'The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside'_

It was then that the emotions hit him: terror, anger, sadness, loneliness... All of them swirling around him, alongside some others that his young mind couldn't identify. They burdened so much that he had trouble standing straight and ended up falling down a small snowy hill.

_'Couldn't keep it in; heaven knows I've tried'_

Harry broke down crying as he remembered all his efforts. He'd tried to find books about concentration, tried to stay in control, even tried to stop feeling any and all emotions in order to keep his powers in check. Nothing had seemed to work. Everyone even thought him to be more of a freak because of that, due to his apparent absence of emotions.

_'Don't let them in, don't let them see, be the good girl you always have to be'_

So he'd hidden it. Done chores in order to exhaust himself so that he wouldn't have enough energy to call upon his powers, hidden himself in his cupboard every time there was a visit so they would never discover how much of a freak he was...

_'Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know'_

The Dursleys had helped him with that, ironically enough. They'd spread rumours about him around the neighbourhood, and Dudley had scared all the other children away from him, making any potential friend too afraid to do anything. At least, that way, no one would ever know, right?

_'Well now they know!'_

It was then that an epiphany hit him. What did it matter in the end? He was all alone anyways - always had been, always would be - and everyone had always known that there was something strange with him; they just couldn't put their fingers on a specific detail.

_'Let it go, let it go. Can't hold it back anymore'_

He felt a sudden rush of muted energy at that realization, as if all the power he'd kept locked up inside himself had found a way out and was curiously peeking outside. Carefully, he let it rush through his fingers, immediately making the snow melt around them and uncovering the small patch of snow hidden beneath.

_'Let it go, let it go. Turn away and slam the door.'_

Standing up, he let the warmth of his finally unrestrained power rush through him, leaving a pleasantly warm feeling throughout his body. He let the snow underneath his feet smooth into ice as he felt his powers smash through the metaphorical door he'd put up in order to keep them in check.

_'I don't care what they're going to say'_

He felt free for the first time he could remember, because he didn't have to worry about anyone's reactions. Who cared what they all thought? They weren't with him anymore, and if he had his way, they would never hold any say over him ever again.

_'Let the storm rage on'_

He did - briefly - wonder about the neighbourhood's reaction when the Dursleys got back without him, but he rapidly chased those thoughts out of his head. In the best of cases, people would finally realize that they weren't the perfectly normal family they portrayed themselves to be and if not,

_'The cold never bothered me anyways'_

He was free.

* * *

**There'll be some elements of Frozen other than the song, but only one character will come in - I'm sure you already know which one *hint hint, read the summary* - but you won't need to have seen the movie to understand. **

**Please leave a review if you've got time. I know it's not perfect, but any way to make this story better would be appreciated.**

**Thank you!**


	2. Thinking

Harry was getting cold. He didn't want to complain about the temperature – he was on a mountain after all, it was expected – but he couldn't fight the shivers that wracked his body as he felt the cold seep through his bones. Letting out a weary sigh, he kept walking, unwilling to stop and become a living icicle. _At least, _he thought morosely as he raised his eyes to view the blue sky above, _it's not snowing yet._

He then promptly stopped that train of thought as fast as he possibly could, praying to all the deities whose name he could remember – and there were surprisingly a lot – that he had not jinxed himself with that careless thought. Sucking in a quick breath to steady himself, the boy froze and stopped his intake of air as he surveyed his surroundings again, waiting for some sort of cataclysm to happen as a consequence of karma.

It was at that moment that he realized how silent the place was. Eerily so, in fact. Not that he'd expected to find a lot of wildlife, but still… As a matter of fact, the last time he could remember hearing such silence was when he'd been locked up in his cupboard while Dudley had gone to the amusement park (and even then, he'd managed to hear some noise from the street).

Confronted with such a heavy silence, Harry sought ways to break it (other than by the sounds of his footsteps in the snow) in order to re-establish his peace of mind. _Now,_ the boy wondered absently,_ should I try to sing or should I talk to myself instead? _Not wanting to seem any crazier than he already was, Harry figured that a deserted mountain would be the best place to try his non-existent singing talents out (there wouldn't be anyone to witness his no doubt disastrous attempts anyways).

Hesitantly, he began: "…" and immediately came up short, belatedly realizing that he had no idea what to sing about . After all, the Dursleys hadn't considered letting him watch the telly (they had, in fact, taken the utmost care in forbidding it), and during the rare times in which he'd managed to catch a glimpse of the show his cousin had been watching – something about strange animals coming out from red and white balls and a lightning mouse, he believed – Harry hadn't had the chance to listen to an entire song, let alone remember its lyrics.

Pondering his options, Harry decided that he would find a song later, and proceeded to talk to himself instead in order to fill the disconcerting silence.

"At least they gave me boots," the young boy remarked, glancing down at his covered – and dry – feet. "Well, sure, they're a bit too big for me, but then again, what isn't?" he continued as he tugged on his too large coat (it wasn't even his, but used to belong to his cousin until the colour wasn't _in _anymore).

Abruptly, he stopped, realizing that he was facing quite an important conundrum: "Where am I even going?" he asked incredulously. He then looked around himself, taking care of noting all the destinations available to him. "Do I want to go down the mountain? Nope, I don't think so. There are folks down there. But do I want to go up? Nope, still don't think so. Teacher said you can't breathe up there. But do I want to stay here? Nope, that's where they'll looking for me I reckon…"

The boy cut off his speech, fully aware of the fact that he was mostly spouting nonsensical babble. Most of his available courses of action revoked – mostly due to his aversion to coming in contact with any more representant of the human species in the near future – Harry finally opted for the less common choice. "I'll have to go round the mountain then," he confirmed out loud.

After all, it was highly possible that he'd find some sort of forest to sleep in if he looked on the other side of the mountain. He'd had to sleep out once when the Dursleys had gotten guests to sleep over at Privet Drive. It hadn't been pleasant, but at least it had happened towards the beginning of fall, when the weather was still chilly, but not too cold. According to his experience, everything would be more simple if he could only find a comfortable branch to lie on before he tried to make himself a durable shelter.

Decision taken, Harry merrily skipped off to the side of the mountain, absently composing a song at the same time.

"_I'm going to find a tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_And I'll sleep in that tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_Then I'll get off the tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_Then I'll go find another tree, with bright green leaves in it."_

So caught up was he in the song (and it was completely fantastic, in his humble opinion) that he didn't realize that another voice had joined him in the middle of it. He abruptly stopped, attempting to hear if anyone was approaching. "Who's there?" he asked suspiciously as he looked around himself.

"That all sounds so very awesome, but there aren't any more leaves in the trees."

Following the sound of the unknown voice, Harry turned around as slowly as he reasonably could. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed as he saw the unknown creature.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" was the only answer he got before the mountain rumbled and buried him in white.

* * *

**Sorry for updating later than I said I would. My bad. But I gave you a slightly longer chapter in excuse.**

**Just warning you, I'm gonna put this story in the crossover section, as it has been pointed out to me that it should be there.**

**And lastly, I'd like to thank ****_Blackraven4400_ and _Kittyaceres_ for reviewing on the very first day, __****Kairan1979** for giving me a wicked idea of revenge on the Dursleys, **_Yali_ and _sukilala_ for adding me to their favourite already, and all of you who are following this story, meaning ****_Blackraven4400_, ****************_Yali_, _dreaming of rocketships_, _shlakvuck_, _sukilala_, _vivekgk3_, _Shadowsmage_ and _avalanchexx_. You're all awesome, thank you!  
**


	3. Meeting

When Harry regained a dazed state resembling consciousness, it was to the sound of an oddly chipper voice that he seemed to recognize, all the while being unable to associate it with any face he could remember.

"Ooh… Hey! Are you still sleeping?" the voice said moments before the boy sat down (or up in this case). "Say, could you look here for a moment? No, not there, I said here! See? Follow my voice, I'm here. You know, on the snow? Not, not THAT snow, THIS snow. The white one…"

Confused as to the mixed instructions he was receiving, Harry attempted to locate the voice, to no avail. Paying little attention to the nonsensical babble washing over him, he then looked around himself to take note of his surroundings, belatedly wondering he wasn't in his cupboard anymore. _I must still be dreaming_, the boy concluded for lack of a better theory. That would explain the strangeness of his surroundings, as well as the fact that there was a disembodied voice still chattering away somewhere in the background.

Of course, his simple presence on a mountain of all things was also a pretty big hint as to the fact that he wasn't exactly in touch with reality at the moment. After all, in what crazy alternate dimension would the Dursleys have decided to take a stroll up a mountain – of all dumb things to do – especially if he were to consider the fact that he'd been brought along with them on the excursion. The thought caused snickers to escape him before…

Wait a minute… The Dursleys..?

As if he'd been figuratively shot, Harry abruptly straightened from his lazy slouch and was swept away by the memories of events that had occurred scant moments prior: the hike, the abandonment, the freedom, the loneliness, the creepy living thing, the mountain rumbling…

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the point of view) something chose that moment to deliver a strong hit to Harry's backside, thus forcing him out of his musings.

"Ouch!" The young boy yelled as he turned his head around in order to better glare at whatever had hit him.

His anger deflated slightly to leave more place for confusion at the strange construct that met his sight: was that... a snowball with feet? Harry looked around some more, but let his gaze return to the footed snowball when he didn't manage to find anything else close enough to have potentially hit him. _Could it be... magic?_ he wondered as he felt his insides churn at the idea that maybe he wasn't the only freak in the world, if someone had made a moving footed snowball.

"Did you just... hit me?" he asked for clarification, all the while feeling quite ridiculous.

''Me? Hit you? No...'' the voice said hesitantly, faux innocence positively oozing from its tone. "Say, could you bring my body here, please?" it continued quickly, obviously attempting – and failing – to subtly change the subject.

Harry stood up at the strange request and fruitlessly turned around, trying to locate what should logically be the head by following the sound of its voice. After a while, he let the footed snowball return to his line of sight and absently wondered as to how the strange creature could still be alive even when dismembered. If he needed anymore proof as to the existence of magic, this would be it.

"Follow me, I'll show you where the rest of me is," the voice chirped while the body nudged Harry's foot. Having given up on pondering upon the strangeness of his situation, the young boy simply decided to give up on logic and follow the footed snowball.

All the while, the chipper voice kept chattering away, thus providing Harry with another clue to his destination. "Oh! And I think you're a very good singer too, Mr Stranger, because your song with the trees was amaaaazing! I'm quite the songwriter myself, you know? Sometimes, I even close my eyes and think about what I used to do in summer…"

Whereas the first part of that small speech was said in the voice's usual hyper tone, the last sentence had an almost dreamy quality to it, which was what somewhat warned Harry about the actions that would follow.

Indeed, the footed snowball had guided him to the head from which emanated the voice just in time to hear it start an old fashion style song about "whatever snow does in summer". The head was completely made of snow, except for what seemed to be a broken carrot sticking out of the space that most probably represented its nose. The fact that said head was sheathed in a big rock didn't seem to deter the creature from singing its dream of tanning on the beach, surprisingly enough. Harry stood frozen in front of the strange spectacle until he realized that another snowball – with two arm-like sticks sticking out of it this time – had to be stopped from rolling down the mountain. And he ran as fast as he could in order to do so, because he had done enough hide and seek with only a voice and a footed snowball as guides for the day.

Once he'd managed to put back together the pieces of what he could now recognize as being a snowman – a living, moving, talking, _singing_ one – the child proceeded to blurt out the question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue for quite a while.

"Just exactly… who are you?" he asked confusedly – and he had to admit at least to himself that the only reason he had chosen "who" and not "what" was due to the fact that the latter designation may have been more than slightly offensive. _Not that such a strange snowman seems like he could be offended by anything_, he mused silently as he awaited an answer to his question.

"I'm Olaf the snowman!" the rather small being – he was about a head smaller than Harry, who wasn't that tall himself – chirped happily. "And let me guess your name…"

The snowman prowled around the boy, only stopping momentarily to poke at random places and occasionally hmming and aahing while the young one stood ramrod still, as if he could feel the heavy weight of judgement upon his frail shoulders. The newly-dubbed Olaf then stopped his movements, as if having come to a final decision about Harry.

"Your name… Is obviously Sven, then!"

Harry still didn't move, but this time it was out of puzzlement rather than apprehension.

"What?"

* * *

**So there it is! Harry and Olaf's first official meeting officially made this fic a crossover.**

**I'd once again like to thank _Blackraven4400 _for leaving me another review, as well as __****Saissister****,****_ Woef,_****and ****_DeliaDe _for following this story, with __****Saissister** following it too!

******I hope you enjoyed this chapter, so please leave a review if you can to tell me what you thought :)**

******Next Saturday, you'll get a discussion between Harry and Olaf as well as the reason why Olaf is on the mountain in the first place. ********Have a nice weekend!**


	4. Talking

After having spent longer than he'd have liked to trying to convince the hyper snowman that no, his name wasn't Sven – "Harry, just Harry", he'd repeated several times – that no, he didn't have a reindeer following him around and that no, he didn't think there was anyone else but the two of them on this mountain, Harry thanked the sky (and cursed the Dursleys) for his non-violent nature: else, he might have decapitated the annoying snowman already (not that it'd be very useful, according to what he'd seen).

However, despite the onslaught of questions he'd bombarded the poor boy with, Olaf still seemed to have more inquiries.

"But how did you get up this mountain then, if there's no one else, hmmm?" he questioned as though imitating some sort of comical frozen detective. "You're much too tiny to climb up a mountain by yourself," the snowman added decisively.

Harry was tempted to let the accidentally disparaging comment slide by force of habit until he realized that he no longer needed to fear the consequences of defending himself and speaking his mind.

"I am not tiny!" he argued firmly as he drew himself to his full height (not that it was that impressive, but it did give him a wicked sense of power).

"Are too~" was the infuriating response from the snowman, delivered in an annoying singsong tone of voice.

"Am not!"

"Are too~"

"Am not!"

"Are too~"

"Am not! And you're tinier than me anyways, so you shouldn't mock my size like that."

Such was the final answer from the boy as he decisively crossed his arms over his chest and stomped off further around the mountain in order to stave off any further argument. No way was he going to lose an arguing battle against a snowman, regardless of the fact that said snowman seemed to be a sentient being. He had his pride, dammit.

"But it's not the same because I'm a snowman!" Olaf replied as though it explained everything (and maybe, for him, it did).

"And…?" Harry asked leadingly, unable to see the point that the other was trying to make.

He immediately experienced the unsettling feeling of being gawked at by a living snowman as if he was some sort of strange exotic creature (which, he discovered, wasn't that great of a feeling).

"You mean you don't know?" Olaf gasped eyes wide in shock and hands over his (probably) non-existent heart.

"Know what?" was the mildly irritated answer from the young boy, who didn't like the fact that he found himself in a perpetual state of confusion when interacting with the chipper snowman.

Said snowman had shortened the distance between the two of them and was currently beckoning Harry's face closer to his. All the while, Olaf had been throwing furtive glance around himself, as thought he feared being overheard by something – not necessarily someone anymore, because who knew what else could exist besides a strange talking snowman?

_Curiosity killed the cat_, Harry uselessly chided himself as he brought his face closer to his interlocutor's cautiously. A caution that turned out to be unnecessary, because the snowman started speaking in what he probably thought to be a whisper.

"Maybe you haven't realized, but…"

There, Olaf threw another few cautious glances around, as though he was about to reveal a secret of national importance. This prompted Harry to lean even further down, eager to not miss a word of what would be said.

"I'm a snowman," was the unexpected reply delivered with a finger on the lips as a sign to stay mum about the subject.

Harry deflated abruptly, all his previous excitement gone. That wasn't the secret of national importance he'd been expecting… "So?" the boy stated rather drily, unable to hide the disappointment he felt.

He once again had the dubious pleasure of being gawked at by Olaf, but along with the gaping mouth, this time. "I am made of snow…" was the very slow reply. "The mountain is made of snow," Olaf kept explaining as though talking to a particularly dimwitted child. "Snow is cold…" he continued as he waved his arms around for emphasis and leant further, as though waiting for Harry to make some sort of connection.

Tired of standing still – and not wanting to sit down, because that would mean freezing his arse off in the snow – Harry began to pace in order to find a suitably intelligent connection. Right at the moment when he felt that he'd have to disappoint Olaf, because he couldn't seem to find one, it suddenly hit him.

"Since I am so… tiny," he began, cringing at the last word – he was NOT tiny dammit, the rest of the world was just too tall! – "it means that I would have trouble walking long distances in the snow without freezing or dying, right?" he assumed, hoping that he'd said the right answer.

"And we have a winner!" Olaf exclaimed as he grabbed a bunch of snow and threw it in the air in a manner oddly reminiscent of a lottery animator with confetti.

Fidgeting slightly under the praise, Harry confirmed the proverb "attack is the best defense" instead of acknowledging the compliment.

"And I wasn't alone anyways," the boy huffed as he kept on walking, arms crossed over his chest. "I came here with… people," he ended lamely, unwilling to acknowledge the Dursleys as relatives.

"Oooh," Olaf responded, letting that strange mouth of his form a perfect circle. He quickly shut it back closed and quickened his pace in order to shorten the distance between the both of them, because Harry walked pretty fast for someone his size. "Is it like a field trip then? Or an adventure?" he asked excitedly, seemingly forgetting the matter of the people Harry came with, to the boy's relief.

Harry turned his head at those questions, and almost tripped when he saw that Olaf's eyes seemed to have gained stars when he wasn't looking. "I guess you could say that," the young boy acknowledged hesitantly. After all, it definitely had a nicer ring to it than just 'being abandoned on a bloody mountain by bloody pigs who deserve bloody Hell for that action and many others'.

Olaf let out a wordless excited exclamation at that, squealing happily and skipping around.

"I went on an adventure too once," he explained happily. "With friends…"

The smile turned wistful at the end and, to Harry, the normally chipper snowman seemed more subdued, as though lost in bittersweet memories. The boy found himself oddly bothered by the unusually somber expression on Olaf's snowy face and resolved to replace it with a happier one.

"I've never had any friends," he admitted softly before cringing internally. _Way to go Potter_, he scolded himself. _For sure, that's how you lift the spirits of a living snowman_.

Oddly enough, it seemed to reach the expected effect. Indeed, the snowman's somber expression was gone, replaced instead by a comically horrified one.

"No… friends? Like… ever?" Olaf asked very slowly as though the idea was unimaginable to him.

At Harry's tiny nod of confirmation, the snowman stopped gaping and instead adopted a wistfully pensive expression. The boy silently remarked once again that such an expression didn't belong in Olaf's face, as though the chipper snowman was meant to always be happy.

As though answering his silent wish, Olaf let out a brilliant smile, almost dazzling Harry with its brightness.

"Don't worry; it's been a long time since I've had friends too!" the snowman said in that chipper tone of his, bouncing forward to walk next to the boy. "But it's okay, because I've got you now!"

"Really?" Harry asked doubtfully. After all, who wouldn't want to be friends with a nice chipper snowman such as Olaf? Except for the fact that he was a snowman, of course. But even the fact that he was made of snow didn't deter Harry from accepting his friendship, especially since it was the first time anyone even wanted to spend time with him. "And how long have you been here," he asked curiously, wondering how old his new friend was.

"Dunno… Since the not-evil ice queen died, I think…"

Harry stopped walking. What?

* * *

***Peeks cautiously* Erm, sorry for the delay?**

**I swear on my non-existent magic that I meant to update this yesterday, really, but I didn't have time to transcribe my notes unto the computer yesterday. Sorry. And I didn't even reveal why Olaf is on that mountain either :'(**

**But at least the chapter's longer this time; I even had to cut it off or else I wouldn't have been able to put it up today.**

**And did you see that? Last time I looked, I had 11 followers, 3 favourites and 4 reviews. And now? Now we're at 34 followers, 19 favourites and 12 reviews! And almost 1400 views! Do you realize how happy that makes me feel! I'd like to thank every single one of you personally here, but it'd take forever so I'll settle for sending you each a thank you message.**

**You're all awesome! Believe it ^.^**

**Tell me what you thought if you've got time, and don't hesitate to PM me if I ever forget to post when I'm supposed to :D **

**See you next Saturday!**


	5. Questioning

Harry's thoughts seemed to be going at a mile an hour in his head: not-evil ice-queen? Why was the "ice" there? Did it mean that she had an ice-like personality? Or was she literally made of ice? Probably the latter, Harry mused, knowing that Olaf was made of snow. Maybe they even had a kingdom full of snowmen, ruled by an ice queen!

Harry felt proudly intelligent for figuring it all out with a minimal amount of information from the snowman he was conversing with. Still, he wanted to get more details than just that. After all, why did Olaf have to specify the "not-evil" part?

"Not-evil ice-queen?" the boy asked with an accompanying raise of the eyebrow.

Olaf finally stopped advancing at that question from the young boy and turned around with a big smile in order to face Harry, who still hadn't moved.

"U-huh!" the oblivious snowman replied in confirmation, nodding his head enthusiastically for emphasis.

Harry let out a sigh of irritation upon realizing that he wasn't likely to obtain the answers he sought unless he decided to take a blunter approach.

"How did she get that title?" the boy asked again, hoping for an answer this time.

"Oh, she didn't get it!" Olaf answered, eyes widening in comprehension. "I'm the only one who calls her that!" he finished with a fond smile and a rather dashing twirl.

The young boy didn't know whether to cry at the snowman's obliviousness, or to laugh at Olaf's antics. He decided to give it a last try, before he would give up on obtaining an answer from the strangely elusive being.

"Yeah, I know, but WHY do you call her that?" he asked at last, a tiny twinge of desperation colouring his tone.

He let a forgotten trace of hope fill his being as he witnessed Olaf stop and put a hand on his chin as though he was in deep thought. Was the snowman really considering his question? Had he perhaps understood the nature of Harry's questioning? With baited breath, the boy watched expectantly as his companion's face cleared with newfound purpose.

"Because she's the not-evil. Ice. Queen!" Olaf said simply with a bemused smile.

Harry groaned, and smothered the sudden urge of banging his head on a wall – there wasn't any in his vicinity anyways – that overcame him. That was it. As it would obviously take way more time than he was willing to spend in order to extract an answer from the perpetually obtuse snowman, Harry would spare himself the headache and simply give up this line of questioning.

"And how did you come to know this… not-evil ice-queen you speak of?" the boy asked after a moment of walking silently. After all, he may have decided to not ask about the significance of the "not-evil ice-queen's" name, but nothing stopped him from trying to obtain an answer about any other inquiries he had, right?

"Well… it's all a reeeeeeally long story, and I'm not sure if you really want to hear it all…" the snowman hesitated, falling silent after his last word.

Harry wanted to reassure his travelling companion – not friend yet, maybe never – that he was entirely willing to hear the story in its entirety and opened his mouth to say so.

"Don't – "

"But this is the perfect place to do so anyways, because we have nothing else to do right now!" Olaf cut him off with an air of growing realization. "And it all started on a mountain…"

The snowman began his tale thus, while Harry looked for a comfortable rock to sit on in order to listen to the story… However, not finding any, he resigned himself to walking some more, even though he could already feel the fatigue settling in.

"What happened on the mountain?" Harry asked eagerly when Olaf seemed to lose himself in memories. The boy had interrupted the snowman's reminiscing both because he was eager to hear the story and because he was hoping that the tale would distract him from the cold seeping into his clothes (the Dursleys hadn't given him a coat of the best quality after all, and he was surprised it had even lasted this long).

And he wasn't disappointed, for the snowman told the story of his tale in his usual grand manner.

* * *

**Sorry for not being here for so long guys! :S **

**Long story short, I got a job and haven't been able to fit the time for actively thinking about my stories since my last update. Things are better now, so I think I might be able to go back to my original schedule... And if not, the wait definitely won't be as long as this one.**

**And I know this chapter is very short, and that's because it's not actually complete (It's around half of what the chapter is supposed to be). I just put it up right now, because I'm kinda stuck on how to tell the tale in itself, so I'm not sure when it'll be finished.**

**Thank you for your patience everyone, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**


End file.
